Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Dominican Republic and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Wings to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
The Neon Judgement,
Bootsy Collins,
The Golliwogs,
the Soft Cell,
U.S. Maple,
Icehouse,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roy Ayers,
Public Enemy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dual Sessions,
Clear Light,
Harry Pussy,
Cameo,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Kinks,
DJ Sneak,
Severed Heads,
FM Einheit,
Michelle Simonal,
Erykah Badu,
R.M.O.,
Cal Tjader,
Nick Fraelich,
Al Stewart,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
a-ha,
Mission of Burma,
The Index,
The Blues Magoos,
Swans,
Iggy Pop,
The Count Five,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cecil Taylor,
Technova,
Los Fastidios,
Pantaleimon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Standells,
8 Eyed Spy,
Matthew Bourne,
Oneida,
Donald Byrd,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Techniques,
The Fall,
Eddi Front,
Lightning Bolt,
Theoretical Girls,
Kurtis Blow,
Oblivians,
Dorothy Ashby,
Althea and Donna,
Amon Düül,
Arcadia,
Skriet,
Flipper,
Wolf Eyes,
Young Marble Giants,
Sällskapet,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.